#fics that aren't mine

[drenched-in-sunlight]

saying this as respectfully as possible but. Do not put fandom content creators on a pedestal. We are also just fans contributing to a community just as you are. We have boundary on our own work and that’s it. What I say is not and should not be considered sth the whole fandom should listen to. I’m just a normal ass person ranting about things on my blog. If it does not have a fandom tag for others to engage in, do not make it out to be me trying to start fights or addressing the whole community. Because it’s not.

I’ve said it before and I will say it again, my art, my lore talk, is biased. I’ve never tried to hide that I view Marika a certain way and will always develop my theory following that base assumption.

Aside from translation stuffs and pointing out in-game items, everything else I say you can look at it, agree or disagree, and move on to form your own opinions. Just because I draw stuffs doesn’t mean you get to saddle me with responsibilities about managing fandom expectations. What the hell? I’m a fan artist, I’m the last person who you should look at for “leaderism” (?) WHAT?

I can and will be a hater in my own space, like I know sometimes other artists will just post their stuffs and not engage too heavily with fandom, and for a while I did try to do that here (because I’m already a dramatic ass on twitter), that’s just not me though.

You will get art and you will get my opinions as well.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Blood Moon Rivalry (1)

NSFW Warnings: 18+, oral (female receiving), mentions of biting and bruising, Remus Lupin has a big dick, mentions of knotting, masturbation (male), come marking and unprotected penis in vagina sex (wrap it before you tap it).

Tagging:

@dontwanttobeanamericanidiot, @jointhehunt67, @cheyplayss-blog and @iowaladynerd

Chapter 1

The King of the werewolves watched from an upstairs window as you and your partner left the hidden sanctuary.  His keen eyes noticed how you walked slightly stiffly, and pride bubbled up inside him, his mind flashing back to the previous day and night's events.

Remus peered up at you smugly from between your twitching thighs, “Begging for more already?”  He teased, grabbing a hold of your calf and placing kisses and bites to the skin and delighting in the bruises that had already begun to appear.  “I thought an orgasm would loosen your tongue.”

It took you a few moments to regain your breath but when you did you scoffed at him, “You think I’m going to spill my secrets after one orgasm?  You’re either very arrogant or naive.”

A growl bubbled up from Remus’ chest at your tone, “Then I’ll just have to make you orgasm over and over until you’re drowning in pleasure.”

His cock slowly breached your entrance and you tossed your head back and bit your lip at the sensation.  The King stilled, knowing that he was likely bigger than other partners you’d had previously.  As if he was hypnotised, his eyes darted to the lip you were still biting, and subconsciously, he licked his own lips, wanting to break his strict rule of no kissing.

To distract himself, he began to thrust into your body and the cries you let out were music to his ears.  His pulse was racing and his blood was thudding in his ears.  His body cried out for more and without hesitation, he gave into his instincts, thrusting deeper and deeper inside of you until you let out a garbled scream when his tip tapped against a spot inside you.  Remus was so wrapped up in the way you felt around him and the way your skin tasted that he barely noticed his knot beginning to form and catch on your entrance.

Awareness slammed back to him at your whimper and he yanked himself out of you.  When you registered the loss, you let out a whine and squirmed around on the bed, desperately seeking any contact that would propel you into your orgasm.

Driven by lust and the desire to hide his swollen knot from you, Remus gripped the base of his cock and guided himself forwards so he could rub the throbbing, purple head of his dick across your folds and against your clit.  Thick ropes of cum burst from the tip the instant it made contact with your swollen clit.  

The sight of his cum on you and the skin-to-skin contact was exactly what you needed to tumble into that pleasure filled abyss.  Unknown to you, the force of your orgasm caused your magic to spark along your skin and Remus was nearly overwhelmed by the impulse to reach out and feel your magic dancing along his skin.  At the last second he pulled back, remembering one of his lessons at Hogwarts before he was expelled for attacking a vampire youngling.  To touch another’s magic would be a step towards an intimacy that he wasn’t sure he’d ever take.

When Remus was sure that his knot had subsided, he pulled away from you and laid down next to you, panting to catch his breath.  Nobody would know if he stole a couple of glances at your body or if his eyes lingered for longer than they should on your breasts or your curves.

Moony howled in the back of his mind and the sound jolted Remus out of his memories. Moony howled again, more insistently this time, urging Remus to follow their mate back to Wizarding Britain and to protect their mate by allying themselves with the Order of the Phoenix to bring down Voldemort.  Then the King blinked, and you and the other wizard you travelled with disappeared into thin air.

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Friday: Trespasser

(From the poll: "In Which the Demolition Duo made it to the Wastelands without being banished because They Are Trespassing)

Damas was not, by and large, a religious man. He didn't worship Precursors -- there were some who insisted that his ousting from Haven was divine punishment for his arrogance -- nor spirits. If spirits could be killed, so could Precursors. That made them oracles, elders to be respected for unique perspectives on time, but not gods in Damas’s opinion.

Which made it an oddity to find him in the temple.

He sat on the shallow steps, staring up at the six carved heads meant to represent Precursors. More insectoid than Oracles, or perhaps just more elaborate. They seemed to wear headdresses over their bizarre masks.

"If you, by action or inaction, let Mar die, then at least have the decency to tell me," he whispered into the empty air.

"You always foretold a future moment of need that my House would answer. Has that need passed unnoticed that you stay silent while my bloodline ends? Or does my son live?"

The masks were silent, of course. Carved stone could neither hear nor speak.

Ungrateful wretches. Damas had a fleeting thought that perhaps they'd allowed -- or even orchestrated -- the abduction of his little son because he wasn't servile and "pious" enough for their tastes.

Damas wondered if spirits could harm Precursors. If perhaps the "Good Grandmother"*, She-Who-Hears-Them-Cry, might take an interest if something in this temple had been directly involved in bringing Mar to harm.

Má took her payment even from the hides of fellow spirits, after all.

"Even if you were capable of bringing him back unharmed, I very much doubt you would," Damas whispered harshly to the open air. His throat bobbed with a painful, bitter anger.

"But if you took him, you owe blood-debt to my House, old ones. So grant closure or sit in your realm knowing that I will seek answers among others as old as you."

Was it wise to threaten the Precursors? Damas neither knew nor cared anymore. Two years he'd barely survived having his heart metaphorically ripped out of his chest.

What more could they do to him? Really, what could they possibly do that could be worse than not knowing?

No answer arrived, not that it surprised him. Damas sighed and braced his elbows against his knees, head in his hands.

Stone grated against stone and metal to his left, and he turned his head swiftly.

There was a door there, one heavily fortified with traps. A hovering Sentinel eye kept watch for movement, designed to activate a spike trap if anyone tried to enter the lower levels without permission. And if someone managed to somehow get past that, the door would still be sealed. Whether by an enterprising ancestor of his or by meddling Precursors, that door could not be opened without an Heir of Mar. Damas was the only one who had ever been beyond it.

It should not have opened even an inch.

And yet Damas was witnessing the two mighty halves forcing themselves apart with a tortured groan born of idleness.

He was on his feet in an instant, ready for a fight. There was no chance that this heralded anything good.

"Whoa!"

That was a hu'men voice.

Damas’s hand hovered over his sidearm, ready to draw the moment he saw a face.

"And I thought this place was huge before!"

It was a young voice. High and a little squeaky.

"It just keeps going, doesn't it?" laughed a second voice, deeper, but just as young.

And then the doors were open wide enough to see the silhouette in between them.

And more importantly, to see the object glowing faintly in his outstretched fist.

Damas’s mouth was dry as he fumbled for the pouch between belt and leather armor where he kept his own amulet of Mar. He knew the shape by heart: twin comets orbiting each other, over stylized hands.

Thief-!

Pure, outraged, fury burned through his veins for a moment. Who had this scrawny figure stolen that amulet from? Heaven forbid it be Mar's amulet, lest Damas murder this boy before his very next step.

"Identify yourself!" Damas shouted, raising his gun.

The figure stepped into view. He was small, so thin his clothes hung loosely on scrawny limbs, but he held himself like a warrior.

"People!"

The animal curled around his shoulders sat upright and spoke.

"Jak! There's real people in here! We're saved!"

Odd reaction to a man pointing a gun at them.

The boy eased a step forward, hands raised as if soothing a frightened animal. He still held the incriminating amulet in his hand.

"Whoa, okay, put the gun down. I don't want to hurt anybody-"

He took a step too far and the sentinel flashed. The spikes shot up out of the floor with a faint shunk!

With a yelp, the boy leapt back -- he was surprisingly light on his feet for someone wearing boots two sizes too big. Then, as if the nearly fatal encounter was no more than a slight inconvenience, he backed up, got a running start, and launched.

He kicked off the wall, seeming to find handholds in the tiniest of crevices as he bypassed the spikes entirely.

Once on the ground again, the boy dusted himself off.

"You okay, Dax?"

"Just peachy, considering you almost dropped me!"

"Did not!" the hu'men boy protested in annoyance.

He really was small.

The general gangly sprawl of his limbs suggested he would gain an impressive height, but for now he just looked..small.

And entirely too excited.

"Who....do you- Where did you come from?" Damas demanded.

The boy pointed back down at the steps and shrugged before scratching his head.

"Exploring?"

Oh that green hair hurt to look at. It was filthy, and matted, like it hadn't been correctly washed in years. He couldn't even determine the age of the trespasser, what with the layers of grime embedded into every crevice of his face. The clothes were just as stained with sweat, dirt, and what looked to be bloodstains. From traps?

"Exploring."

Damas repeated the stranger's explanation incredulously. "How did you even get in here?"

The boy and the orange animal looked at each other for a curiously long moment. They seemed to be having a conversation merely by narrowing and widening their eyes in turn. Then, seeming to come to an agreement, they shrugged and turned back to face Damas.

The boy pointed down a barely visible flight of rough-hewn stone steps, lit by torches.

"We came up through the catacombs."

There were catacombs? He hadn't seen anything like that down there, and Damas liked to think he'd made it pretty far! He examined the stranger more closely, avoiding his eyes -- they're not familiar, you're just projecting your grief -- and avoiding looking at the talking weasel thing. He saw sunken cheeks drawn tightly against sharp cheekbones. A pale, barely visible scar across the bridge of his nose. Deep, deep shadows beneath his eyes. How large was the temple, altogether? Were there more people living below their feet?

"How...long were you down there?" he asked after a few seconds.

"Trust me pal," the weasel-rabbit said, "he smelled like this before we got in that zoomer."

"Hey!"

"What zoomer?!" Damas asked, feeling more confused than before.

"The one we took through the lava tube to the catacombs."

Damas was beginning to wonder if he'd somehow inhaled the monks' incense by accident.

The trespasser cringed as if only just noticing the bewildered and only barely softened hostility on Damas’s face. He shoved his amulet -- not his, it can't be his, there aren't any more of us left!*-- into his pocket and waved his hands placatingly.

Was there another Heir all this time? Is that why I was given no chance to protect Mar? Were my child and I expendable?

"Didn't mean to bother you," the kid apologized, "We'll just uh- huh. Actually, where are we?"

And then he looked to the door rather than Damas.

"Hey Oracle!" he shouted, and Damas was glad no monks were present to hear this and faint at the impertinance.

"Where the rot are we?"

Alright. This was now officially more of a problem than he'd first thought. Not even the monks were supposed to have found that Oracle down there.

One of the past Heirs who never inherited the throne had sealed it up the moment he discovered it long ago. After all, the discovery of light and dark eco being opposite poles of one energy might have thrown society into chaos and they didn't want to deal with the fallout. Even Damas was leery of reintroducing that knowledge outside of the Arena yet. Apparently this trespasser had no such thoughts.

He spoke to Oracles -- or pretended he did.

He held and used an amulet.

The boy was a mystery. And Damas hated not having the answers.

"You," Damas decided, wearing anger like a shield, "are coming with me. You have questions to answer."

The boy balked.

"No!"

He dodged before Damas could seize his arm, stumbling back amidst the columns.

"Uh-uh, I'm not falling for that."

"Falling for what?"

Damas was genuinely confused, and more than a little irritated.

The boy continued to back away.

"No, no I know how this goes. You're gonna take me back to the Haven Council, aren't you!"

*

"Haven?!" Damas sputtered, "Why the bleeding rot would I want to go there?! I'm taking you to my city!"

That didn't reassure the kid, who apparently was not fond of the leaders of Haven City.

Well, that was at least a bare minimum of common ground.

"You ain't takin us to no secondary location!" the orange one declared, pointing a skinny digit at Damas.

"The last time I got transported to a new place, I got kidnapped and experimented on for two years," his friend agreed.

Embleer Frith.

Damas stared at the boy. He squinted, as if that would give him insight into the unsettling response, then shook his head.

"You what?!"

What was he talking about? Experimented on?! That would explain the sudden shift from curiosity to distrust. But why-?

Damas knew. Deep down, he thought he knew.

If the boy was an Heir -- and he didn't even want to entertain the thought, but it had to be acknowledged as a possibility -- then that alone would be motive for someone like Praxis to torture even a young man -- or young boy?

If he was still obsessed with creating the ultimate war-sage, then an unclaimed and unattended Heir of Mar would be invaluable.

But if Praxis had been so focused on an older Heir, then perhaps it at least meant that he'd never gotten his hands on Mar.

That there was a stab of shame to follow that whisper of relief was an unsettling proof that he had not successfully hardened his heart as much as he'd thought.

"You came here from Haven?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

Thoughts of a breach in their defenses sickened him.

"And others will follow in pursuit of you?"

This time both trespassers scoffed.

"Only if they feel like sharpening their reaction time enough for a volcanic subrail," the hu'men said. He almost smiled.

The orange one nodded. "Jak here's the best driver there is! Also the most demolition-happy, but nobody's perfect."

Jak?

Now that was a name his spies had been mentioning a lot in their reports. An alleged juggernaut who had turned the Baron's own secret project against him and -- rumor had it -- even destroyed the metalhead nest.

Damas had been expecting someone a little...older.

* the "Good Grandmother" Damas is referencing is a spirit I made up for the Wasteland called Má Crocadeer. Fairly grisly figure with a crocadeer skull wreathed in flowers for a head, and a crocadeer's legs and tail. Her purpose is to punish those who deliberately cause or inflict harm on children. There's a lot of people in Haven who should avoid the desert for this reason.

[pekoposting]

HAPPY 3500 PEKO FICS ON AO3!!!

[queenbirbs]

Popping the neat line of tape, Tim unwrapped the paper and lifted the lid of a box to reveal a printout. It was a reservation for two for a scotch whisky tour, including a private dinner and a round of tastings. He noted the date and time: December 30th, 4:00 p.m. “Nice,” he said with a smile. “Thank you. Let’s hope that we can both get off shift in time for it.” “Yeah, well, we’d have to leave pretty early if we wanna make it there.” She bit her lip and motioned to the box. “The rest might help with that.” Intrigued, he set the paper down and moved to the next. Another printout, but this time with the British Airways logo stamped across the top: tickets to Scotland for the 26th through the 2nd of January. “This is— Luce, that’s two days away.” “Actually one, remember?” she reminded him with a grin.

Tim and Lucy ring in the New Year with a trip away from LA — 5,146 miles away, to be exact.

Happy early New Year's, @roguetwelve! Hope I took them far enough away from LA for you ;)

[therantingsage]

Another! Updated! Guy!!!!!!!!! Initially tried reworking them entirely but I kinda hated it. So I switched back to just adding onto the design I had before.

Pre-chapter 7's bodycraft stuff. Probably my favorite iteration so far!!!

((fic by @protectorcraft))

[caer-gai]

So a fun fact about me is before I had a Tumblr I only experienced fandom through AO3 so I know a lot of arthuriana fics. Which has me thinking would it be neat if I did some sort of regular fic rec posting? Idk let me know how y'all feel

[pynkhues]

What confuses me the most when it comes to these femme/masc discussions is that these poeple act like the majority of fanarts, fanfics, even analyses, don't characterize lestat as the masc one.

He is predominantly the top (and even though they are CANONICALLY vers, bottom lestat is very much unpopular), he is drawn taller, bigger, more mascular than Sam actually is. He is also usually "the husband" , "the father", and I would say that even the fact that he is seen as less vulnerable plays into that trope. Of course Louis being seen as the total opposite.

It is disingenuous to act like your opinion will take away all of those popular interpretations or that you have taken away all Louis' feminine traits by doing your own research behind some fan readings. And the fact is that many of them are based on modern standards of what it means to be masculine/feminine,on the way poeple see gay men as more feminine by default or are simply already largely accepted by the fandom.

As you've said already, neither of them are exclusively masc or femme! And at the end of the day caring more about a fictional character than about the fact that there is a real person behind the screen you are calling names or making negative assumptions about is weird. Especially when that person has been open to fair and real discussions from the beginning.

Sorry for the ask being so long but the way some people act on the internet without any care or consideration really bothers me. Hope you had a good day despite all of this!

I hope you don't mind me grouping all your asks together like this, because I really appreciate you all being so supportive and engaged with the discussion, and think you do bring up some different and interesting points, most of which I agree with, some I don't necesarily (in particular, I wouldn't say Louis' just Jacob once he's stopped performing masculinity, but I appreciate too that there are some mannerisms there that do feel more informed by Jacob's own movements/experiences than in other periods of Louis' life), but I feel like I've said all I really want to say about it at this point.

So! Links! Because yeah, I've been pretty baffled by people being so vitriolic about different interpretations of the dynamic, given masc!Lestat x fem!Louis is far and away the most popular interpretation, which I talked about a while ago here, and I do tend to see it as an exercise in trying to control the fandom and iterations of Louis' character that may appear in fandom spaces, which I talked about here and here along with the pervasiveness of gender essentialism in these conversations (although I guess they finally did respond directly and off anon lol). I know a lot of you are responding specifically to this post, but the fashion and nails I talk about here, and - - yeah. I think I'm just going to leave it there for now, if that's okay?

Thank you all though for these thoughtful asks, they were really interesting to read (and honestly, it's nice to feel some resonance in both directions), and I'm grateful for the flurry of support after yesterday. I'm fine though (yoga helped, haha), and I'm really just ready to move on from it honestly. Hopefully that cohort did just block me, as they tagged they would, and we can enjoy our own spaces in the fandom playground. :-)

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Fuga AU, but they're all in daycare / preschool and Alcatraz is just the classroom where they all the "bad kids" go when they're put in time out or miss recess. Cell's the kid that bites his teachers and the other kids way too hard (hard enough to draw blood) and Pac and Mike are sent to time out for trying to steal their teacher's wedding ring.

[pastafossa]

Hey Pasta! i was so glad to read that things have been starting to look up for you recently & i hope it only gets better ♡

have you heard about the fic binding legal scandals happening bc of etsy sellers binding & selling hard copies of fics? i saw some authors are reccomending putting disclaimers on their fics to hopefully avoid legal action being taken against them & was wondering if you were planning to do something like that? id hate to see your works being taken down/deleted bc of peoples ignorance

art like yours deserves a place in the world

Thank you so much anon! Things are definitely looking up a little, and I've got my fingers crossed that my mood will continue to follow it. 😅 Honestly if I could just have a six month period or so where things were chill I'd be SUPER relieved.

And I have seen it yeah, and I've been watching it fairly closely since this has the potential to alter the fanfic legal landscape that we writers post in regardless of whether or not one of our own fics were being sold. I'm well aware TRT isn't as big as some of the fics at the center of the current legal/ethical scuffle over it, but TRT is popular enough in the fandom that I've kept an eye out on etsy for bound copies just in case. I'm still supportive of people binding TRT for personal, non-commercial use only where no money changes hands, I have no issue with that. That being said, I am considering slapping a general, 'please don't do this commercially' on the fic. I honestly have no idea whether it would actually protect the fic or not, and whether or not that would protect me from legal blowback (my life for a lawyer matt boyfriend to explain this shit). But it wouldn't hurt to remind people that this sort of thing is how you get fics taken down. 99.999% of fic authors do not have the funds to fight someone like the Mouse even if they'd eventually win. So, as much as I joke about wanting Feige to notice TRT and hire me to write Jane into Daredevil, if allllll of us want TRT finished, we need to all play by the rules, especially as Born Again will likely give the fandom (and potentially TRT) a boost in popularity.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Blood Moon Rivalry (4)

Warnings: spells going wrong, canon typical behaviours, 2k+ words, 18+, nsfw, oral (female receiving), mentions of hypnotism, biting, blood drinking, predator/prey dynamics, vampire/witch sex, and mentions of pain and breath play.

Tagging:

@dontwanttobeanamericanidiot, @jointhehunt67, @cheyplayss-blog and @iowaladynerd

Chapter 4

“Professor,” Neville Longbottom gasped, sprinting into your empty classroom and promptly doubling over when he reached your desk.  “Snape..Defence…Spell.”

“Neville, I need you to sit and breathe,” you commanded, getting up from your chair and walking around your desk to talk to the stressed teen.  Neville’s chest heaved up and down as he fought to regain his breath while you guided him over to the closest chair.

Neville’s breaths gradually became more regular, and once they’d evened out, the teen stared down anxiously at his hands that he’d pressed against his dirt-stained pants.  “Tracey told Daphne, who told Ernie, who told Hannah and Alicia, who overheard and told Seamus, who told Dean, who told Ron.” He confessed in a whisper, still not meeting your gaze.

You knelt down in front of the distressed teen. “Tracey told Daphne what?” You prompted softly.

Neville squared his shoulders and raised his head to meet your eyes, “Professor Snape was taking the sixth-year afternoon Defence class.”  You nodded encouragingly; since Umbridge had been publicly forced out of the castle and into Azkaban, you and Severus were covering the DADA classes to fill the gap until a new professor was hired.  You were teaching the classes in the morning, and Severus was teaching the ones later in the day.  Albus assured you both that he had received expressions of interest from many candidates and was thoroughly researching them.

Though you trusted the older wizard, you had a nagging feeling that he was embellishing the truth a bit.   Prior to accepting the position at Hogwarts, you heard the rumours about the DADA position being cursed, and thanks to Umbridge’s recent dismissal, that rumour was spreading through Hogwarts again like wildfire.

“McLaggen was boasting that he could perform the spell with his eyes closed and still hit the training dummy.”

You let out a groan at Neville’s words and quietly thanked Merlin that you weren’t teaching McLaggen.  Filius and Pomona both complained, in the privacy of the staff room, about the teen’s inability to follow instructions and his attitude towards learning in general.  Severus didn’t join in with Filius and Pomona’s conversations and so, up until this point, you thought he didn’t have any trouble with the over-confident, boastful sixth year.

“DADA and Potions are two different subjects.  Just because he doesn’t act up in Potions doesn’t mean that he acts the same way in DADA.  Besides Severus has a way of discouraging any behaviours that annoy him in the classroom even if they don’t have a detrimental effect on the potion making.”

Neville’s lips curled in a small smile at the noise you made, and then he continued to speak, “The lesson was about controlling impulses, both magical and physical.  When McLaggen’s stomach rumbled, he lost concentration and instead of his spell hitting the training dummy, it….”

“Hit Professor Snape,” you supplied.  Neville nodded and you sighed, pushing yourself back to your feet.

“You did the right thing, Neville.  Thank you for coming to find me.”

“What do I do now?”

“Head back to the Gryffindor Common Room, and I’ll track down Professor Snape.”

Neville’s brow furrowed in worry, but he stood up nevertheless. “According to Seamus, Daphne said she saw Snape heading towards the fifth floor.”  In your head, you compiled a list of the rooms on the fifth floor, but none of them seemed suitable until you remembered about the Room of Requirement.

“Thank you, Neville.”

You waited for the teen to leave the room, and when you were sure that he had listened and left, you made your way to the fifth floor, taking care to wandlessly lock your classroom door as you left.

Some students greeted you as you walked past, and you made sure to return the greeting, while others were more subdued and muttering about how Severus looked paler than normal.  A lump built in your throat, and you increased your pace.    For the past few evenings, you and Severus had been meeting up in the small office above the DADA classroom to pour over the lesson plans for the following days so you knew what spell McLaggen hit Severus with.  What you didn’t know was how it’d affect him.

Lost in your thoughts, you walked past the blank stretch of wall that hid the room from those who didn’t know it existed and those who followed someone because they might’ve wanted to spy on the people using the room.  It was only after you noticed a stray piece of red wool clinging to the sleeve of your right arm that you realised, and you whirled around, retracing your steps only to pivot at the end of the corridor and walk past the tapestry again.

When the door handle materialised, you wasted no time.  You wrenched the door open so quickly that your muscles didn’t register the weight of the door until after you’d stepped through and yanked the door closed behind you.

Shaking your hand to alleviate the building ache, you set out to search for Severus.  The Room was dimly lit, which probably wasn’t a problem for him, but it could rapidly turn into a disadvantage for you if Severus attacked.

“Don’t be stupid,” you chided yourself.  “This isn’t an uncontrolled beast you’re talking about; it’s Severus.  He prides himself on his cont-”

“You think too loudly.” Severus’ voice was rougher than usual.  “I heard you outside the Room.”

You said nothing to the first part of his statement, instead opting to keep moving in what you hoped was the right direction by using the volume of his voice as a guide.   Despite your rising nerves, you decided against conjuring a ball of light to assist you.   Moments later, your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the room, and you let out a soundless breath as navigating the makeshift corridors in the hidden room became slightly easier, but you still couldn’t see any sign that would indicate Severus was lurking nearby.

You trekked deeper into the Room, squinting at the mismatched items piled almost to the ceiling. “Merlin, does everything that’s lost in Hogwarts make its way here?  How am I supposed to find Severus in all this mess?”

“The aim of me hiding in here was so you wouldn’t be able to track me down,” Severus’ voice rang out dryly.  You cursed softly; his voice sounded farther away than before, which meant that you were heading in the wrong direction.  Coming to a halt, you spun around and headed back the way you came.

“You should have kept going that way.”  Now the voice of the potions master was even further away, “I wonder how long it’ll take before you start blasting your way through the Room.”

“The thought of blasting my way through here is tempting,” you admitted, wincing slightly at the volume of your magically amplified voice, knowing Severus’ enhanced senses were far more sensitive than yours and, at the very least, he’d be wincing too.  “Good,” you thought with a decent amount of venom, “Did he expect me to enjoy this little game of hide and seek of his?”

“But I don’t want to risk damaging this room irreparably or angering Hogwarts just because you’re enjoying the thrill of the chase.”

A gust of wind blew through the room, and as you tried to identify where it came from, a strong arm wrapped around your hips and yanked you backwards into a firm chest.  Warm air fanned across your neck, and you tilted your head to the side, exposing the flesh on your neck.

“You should have left when you didn’t find me immediately,” Severus growled, dragging his sharp incisors across the delicate flesh.  “I was generous and gave you more than one opportunity to leave.”

Again you gave no response and Severus chuckled darkly, pressing his fangs against your neck with a bit more force, “Then again, the fact that you’re not twisting out of my grip has me wondering how much you crave this.”

“Are you actually going to do anything or have you convinced yourself that you’ll be able to make me orgasm with just your voice?”  You demanded breathlessly, proud of yourself for being able to string a coherent sentence together.

Severus paused, the insistent pressure of his fangs against your skin reminding you that you were dealing with a magical being who was quicker and deadlier than anyone you had encountered in a while.

Without warning, Severus used his grip on your waist to spin you around so that you were staring into his eyes.  The irises were their usual shade of obsidian; however, on the outside of the iris, there was a crimson ring.  A seductive voice rang in your head, urging you to continue staring into Severus’ eyes.  Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were being hypnotised, but try as you might, you couldn’t seem to break free.

Severus pinched your cheeks with his free hand and the sting of pain was what you needed to break the spell.  Blinking up at him m you shook your head, absentmindedly noticing that Severus’ eyes had a smaller crimson ring around the pupils.  Satisfied that a measure of consciousness had returned to you, the hand that Severus was using to grip your cheeks slid down to grasp at your neck.

Despite the hunger for blood and for more enjoyable activities racing through his veins, the remaining rational part of Severus’ mind reminded him to be gentle with you.   You were so much more breakable than him.

He tried to remove his hand from your neck, but with a speed he didn’t expect from you, you raised your own hand to hold his in place.  Understanding swept through him at your wordless plea, followed closely by the desire to show you why he was a much better lover than the werewolf.

Severus guided you backwards, his hand trembling slightly as you let go and trusted him with your safety.  The only indication that Severus had reached his destination was when your hips pressed against a desk and Severus remained stationary in front of you.

The hand that was resting on your hip moved to rest flat on the surface of the table next to you.  It felt like every nerve ending in your body came alive at the gesture and the realisation of what was about to happen.

“McLaggen funnelled more magic into his spell than I thought.”

Severus’ eyes darted to where his hand rested on your neck and back again before settling on your wrist.  You raised your left wrist, already thinking of ways to hide the bite marks, and to your surprise, Severus shook his head. 

“Too risky.”  He denied, his eyes raking over your body before settling on your thighs. “There,” he breathed, and your thighs clenched.  The thought of Severus sinking his teeth into your inner thighs just centimetres from your groin had heat pooling low in your belly.  At the same time, Severus inhaled deeply, and a visibly hungry gleam appeared in those deep obsidian eyes.

“Strip or I shall shred your clothing with my teeth piece by piece.”

At first, Severus thought you were too consumed by lust and arousal to obey his command, but then he took in the challenging glint in your lust-blown eyes and the stubborn set of your chin.  The sight in front of him spurred Severus into action, and he shoved the thought that you had behaved this way with Lupin to the back of his mind.  Though he banished the thought, jealousy reared up inside him, causing his magic to react. His magic vanished your clothing and bared you to him.

Your soft gasp of surprise barely registered in his ears as he was too busy hooking his arm around your waist and lifting you into the air to place you on top of the desk.   When your skin came into contact with the surface of the desk, your legs fell open, and Severus was hit with the scent of you.

Longing grew inside of Severus, becoming stronger by the second, and he dropped to his knees, giving into the tempting idea of eating you out before sinking his fangs into the soft skin of your inner thigh and feasting on your blood.   With barely there touches, he ran his palms up the inside of your legs, starting from your ankles and ending just millimetres from your already wet entrance.

“Severus…”

Your voice cut off as the vampire used his hands to push your thighs open wider before leaning forwards and circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.  Your head fell back at the sensation, and your hips thrust forwards.  Severus let out a low, amused chuckle.  He used his thumbs to spread you open, and the touch of his cool skin against your overheated skin caused you to whimper.  Your hands flew into his hair, and you anchored him in place, begging for more and rolling your hips against his tongue.

Severus’ bloodlust rose again.  To distract himself and because he knew that your blood would taste so much sweeter after you came, he pulled his tongue away from your clit.  You didn’t have a chance to protest the loss as Severus cupped your bottom in his hands, his blunt nails digging in slightly, and yanked you forwards with enough force to knock you off balance. 

Now your back was resting on the wooden surface of the table, and Severus had more access to your pussy.  He dove in, licking and sucking like a man starved and all you could do was gasp and writhe around on the table, though Severus’ grip on your ass prevented you from writhing out of his grip.  Every so often, the tip of his nose would bump against your clit, stimulating you further while he alternated between sucking on the inner lips of your pussy and thrusting his tongue into your clenching hole.  Your speech dissolved into nonsensical babbling, and your back arched off of the table when Severus’ tongue probed deep inside you.

Just when you thought you knew what to expect, you felt Severus circling your entrance with a finger. When he deemed it coated enough in your wetness, he slid the digit into you.  You were beyond caring about whether the Room of Requirement had Silencing charms on it as you screamed out in pleasure.

Severus wasn’t done with you.  Not by a long shot.  He slid another long, thick finger into your pussy.  He gave you some time to adjust to the new feeling of fullness before scissoring them and sealing his mouth around your clit and worrying the pulsing bud of nerves with his tongue.  Your mouth opened in a soundless scream as the tip of his middle finger brushed against a sensitive spot, and Severus smirked against your skin, thrusting his fingers so that they hit that spot every time. 

Severus could feel your orgasm approaching and when you cried out in pleasure, he moved his mouth from your pussy to your inner thigh and bit down.  His eyes almost rolled back into his head at the heady and addictive taste of your blood.  Once he’d drunk enough to sate his bloodlust, he began to clean the wound.  With each soft kiss to the skin, the puncture wounds from his fangs healed little by little until they were completely gone.

Multicoloured sparks danced along your skin, catching his eye, and Severus peered up at them from between your thighs.  He was so mesmerised by the enchanting display of your magic that he didn't realise his own magic was responding until it coursed along his skin, racing toward your blissed-out form.  As if they sensed his presence, the tiny pulses of magic on your body shot into the air with Severus’ trailing closely behind. 

The magic bursts climbed higher and higher in the air until they were hovering directly over your bodies, and then they collided.  The collision may have been soundless; however, the rush of magic more than made up for the lack of sound.  It grew so bright that you squeezed your eyes shut, and Severus leisurely pulled his soaked fingers out of you before gathering you in his arms to shield you from the surge of light and power and closing his own eyes tightly.

The magical reaction only lasted for a short time.  Bit by bit, the light dimmed until it flickered out of existence entirely, leaving the space around you with an odd, purified feeling.  You went lax in Severus’ arms, and a small, genuine smile blossomed on the vampire’s face.  His eyelids fluttered as exhaustion caught up to him.  Just as he was contemplating waking you up so that the two of you could head back to his private quarters, the wooden desk transformed into a bed spacious enough for the both of you.

Too tired to ignore the invitation, Severus arranged you in the bed before disrobing and climbing in himself.  His foot brushed against something metallic and sharp and you stirred.  After checking that you were still asleep, Severus looked down to see what his foot had touched.  Sitting innocently on the floor was a glinting, silver piece of metal.  Scattered around the side of the bed that Severus was about to climb into were other pieces of the same metal.  Peering over at one of the other bits, Severus could make out some engraving on the surface.   

His sharp hearing detected a quiet, sleepy moan and his attention switched to you.  Then the sheet covering you slipped down, revealing more of you to him and dismissing the bits of metal as unimportant, Severus climbed into bed and pulled you into his arms so your head was resting on his chest.

Had he looked down at his left forearm prior to falling asleep, he would have been able to watch the dark mark grow smaller and then completely vanishing.

[squiblez]

Matchmaker: reader goes to April's college and is infamous for being a matchmaker for classmates, despite that she's never dated anyone and Leo takes this as a challenge, Leo is a flirt and would 100% be into the tsundere/love shy type

Amnesia: reader wakes up with no memory of the last few years including befriending the turtles, reader used to be their enemy and now Leo and company have to help them readjust to hero life (I realized a lot of fics just plop you into the middle of knowing everyone and everything and thought of this)

Apocalypse Parents: takes place in the bad timeline (years before the end tho), reader finds a young Casey scavenging and tries to help him thinking he's on his own, (future)Leo thinks she's trying to kidnap him and after some very intense arguing and explanations reader ends up joining the resistance, hijinks ensue

[crimeboys]

monsterloot fic masterpost

multi-chapter

ignite the light: dsmp, canon divergence/reincarnation au/political drama, techno-centric sbi, where technoblade is new in town and everyone keeps trying to make his day worse (6/14 chapters)

the sun was sinking: dsmp, superhero au, tommy-centric crimeboys + discduo, where tommy has been taken by dream to become the best hero the city has ever seen but keeps having dreams about a man he doesn't know but could swear he does (4/?? chapters)

washed up: dsmp, modern au, wilbur-centric tntduo + crimeboys, where wilbur and tommy are washed up actors and quackity is wilbur's long-suffering agent trying to move them along (6/?? chapters)

ache performing apathy: dsmp, modern au, wilbur-centric sbi, where semi-estranged wilbur comes to his father for help without actually asking for it and finds a whole new family has been created in his place (1/?? chapters)

canon oneshot

it's nice to be wanted (2.8k): dsmp, pre-prison break, techno-centric peerpressureduo, where technoblade and michael meet for the first time

nothing is wrong, all of the time (3.8k): dsmp, exile snapshot, tommy-centric discduo, where dream shares a secret with tommy

26 going on 40 (4.7k): dsmp, post-inconsolable differences, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur has lost track of the days and tommy reminds him

your world and mine (1.7k): osmp, vaguely in s3, jack-centric rocketduo, where jack gets a wetsuit that lets him visit niki

crime and peace (1.8k): dsmp, post-inconsolable differences, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur and tommy have a not-so candid conversation about burgers

oh, how i want to be free (24.2k): dsmp, post-prison break timeloop, tubbo-centric cabinetduo + beeduo, where tubbo gets trapped in a timeloop and finds it's not all that different than before

the original and best (of men) (1.8k): dsmp, post-boundless sands, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur is in utah and haunted by the things he left behind

has the moon lost her memory? (4.4k): dsmp, post-nuke finale, crimeboys-centric crimeboys, where three guys visit a gas station and wilbur doesn't understand why tommy doesn't recognize him

best friends (1.6k): dsmp, post-prison break, tommy-centric clingyduo, where tommy visits a sick friend

a good pillow (3k): dsmp, post-prison break, techno-centric emerald duo, where steve is mad at technoblade and phil clowns him for it

our Love is God (354 words): dsmp, poem, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur haunts a body that is a country that is a brother

squeeze (3.2k): dsmp, post-inconsolable differences, wilbur-centric sand duo, where wilbur tells phil about leaving, tommy, and how those are connected

we're not getting better (1.6k): dsmp, post-tubbo apology, tommy-centric clingyduo, where tommy and tubbo discuss wilbur

moderation (8.1k): dsmp, post-boundless sands/the end of las nevadas, quackity-centric viceduo, where quackity thinks wilbur is dead and he and tommy decide to drink about it

in the middle (1k): dsmp, set vaguely before inconsolable differences, technoblade-centric bedrock bros, where technoblade and tommy find reconciliation through breakfast

buzz (1.4k): dsmp, set during burger arc before ho16, tubbo-centric cabinetduo, where tubbo and quackity talk about love

three-man operation (4.2k): dsmp, set vaguely sometime after bust, tommy-centric benchtrio, where tommy, tubbo, and ranboo decide to go sledding so of course a heist must occur first

(and burst) (4.1k): dsmp, post-boundless sands, continuation of “squeeze”, tommy-centric angelduo, where tommy talks to phil about wilbur leaving

we can make it up again (5.2k): dsmp, set sometime after ho16/jailbreak, tommy-centric crimeboys, where wilbur gets a cat and tommy is NOT having it

au oneshot

they can't take the sky (4.2k): dsmp, zombie apocalypse au, wilbur-centric crimeboys + quirkyduo, where a paranoid wilbur struggles in the apocalypse and saves a couple of teenagers who return the favor

something like revival (10k): dsmp, modernish paranormal au, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur and tommy were friends one day brothers the next and now try to make a life in an apartment that may or may not be haunted

flying (3.6k): dsmp, circus au, tina-centric tinarose, where tina is in love with the circus flyer but knows that the job will always come first for hannah

everything you hid inside (23.6k): dsmp, modern + powers au, wilbur-centric sbi, where wilbur secretly has reality warping powers he refuses to use and then he gets deliriously sick

maybe the path is gory (whatever it takes) (6.4k): dsmp, zombie apocalypse au, quackity-centric las nevadas, where quackity will do whatever it takes to make las nevadas great

blood and cigarettes (10.9k): dsmp, vampire + fae au, wilbur-centric tntduo, where it is the 1800s and wilbur is trying to kill the local priest

close your eyes (4.2k): dsmp, hunger games au, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur tries to give tommy a moment of peace in the middle of the games

the brains of this operation (3k): dsmp, zombie apocalypse au, same universe as "they can't take the sky", tubbo-centric fireflyduo, where tubbo and dream discuss the ways they are similar

as my eyes shut (3.5k): dsmp, hannibal au, wilbur-centric tntduo, where wilbur is having a breakdown and makes impulsive decisions to gain some feeling of control

two guards (1.2k): dsmp, modern au, cabinetduo, where quackity and tubbo are hosting a funeral

the dark of our graves (4.2k): dsmp, hunger games au, same universe as “close your eyes”, wilbur-centric tntduo, where wilbur and quackity dig a grave

neither of us will be missed (23.4k): dsmp, modern minecraft/post-exile au, wilbur-centric crimeboys, where wilbur is a police officer investigating tommy innit for the murder of dream

break me, i am bread (15.3k): dsmp, royalty au, wilbur-centric tntduo, where wilbur is marrying sally, in love with quackity, and terrified of disappointing his father who doesn’t appear onscreen once

[lesbianalicent]

did you guys know that writing is the hardest thing in the world and you should never ever do it

[wolfieisacat]

i am convinced that most of the people who are like "rape fics are DISGUSTING!!! HOW COULD YOU ROMANTICIZE REAL TRAUMA LIKE THAT" aren't victims of SA of any kind like. like they've never been raped. because most of the people who are victims of that kind of thing who have an opinion on rape fics (that i've read from) are like "yeah it's cool"

[ratcandy]

also whats weird is like, that mushroom gotta be like ATTACHED to his brain?? no way he doesnt have brain damage from that. also its not hard to imagine that with all his intense mushroom use, that he'd have some sort of substance use disorder. and he is, suddenly, in a DEATH CULT. actually. i dont feel like anyone talks about the last part. ?? doesnt anyone wonder how hard it would be to adjust just suddenly. being in a cult? we dont really know how his life was before but if he wasnt in a cult beforehand then id imagine all the Cult Stuff would be at least a little uncomfortable.

I guess it would depend to what extent we're leaning into the parasite actually being a cordycep. Because if we're going full throttle on that, teeechnically cordyceps don't attach to the brain at all and only control the musculature; hence why I always hc'd that there's two different mushrooms involved, with the menticide doing the brain fuckery and the cordycep doing. The everything else

But at the same time it could very well just be advanced cordycep and we can make up whatever rules we want ! But YES, regardless, there is some brain nonsense happening that would ABSOLUTELY have everlasting effects on this ant. Not to mention if the cordyceps DID have control of his muscular system, then his entire body has got to be feeling the effects of it as well.

So he's here, in a death cult, probably having to re-learn how to walk and suffering extreme withdrawal symptoms as well as memory loss.

ANd no nobody ever considers the full ramifications of the death cult because everybody is a coward and won't consider how horrifying cults actually are!!!!!! And to be a disabled old man suddenly thrust into a scary ass scenario where people are being sacrificed and brought back to life around you while you can't even remember how old you are or where you've been the past few years because time was fucked while you were Shroomed, it HAS to be HORRIFYING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But at the same time it really just works out from a cultist perspective. He's already isolated, vulnerable, and probably only halfway lucid at any given point. He'd be extremely easy to manipulate and keep dependent on the cult. After all, they're keeping him safe there, it's dangerous out there. (Not to mention him just feeling some inherent loyalty to the Lamb upon becoming sober, which certainly wouldn't do him any favors)

Like what's he going to do? Leave? Stumble out, suffering withdrawl, into the Lands of the Old Faith?? As an old man??????????

He has no CHOICE but to make peace with where he is. Despite all the questions about if his FAMILY is even STILL ALIVE. Despite having no idea what he DID while under the influence. Despite the HORRORS around every CORNER

It's FUCKED!!!!! It's AWFUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!